Kissed by the Killer

Chapter Nineteen: Harmony of Havoc.

Violet Virgilson.

The warehouse smelled of betrayal.

Not just smoke and rust and old whiskey, but betrayal. That sharp, metallic tang that clings to the air when people who once swore loyalty decide to trade you for a better deal.

I should've known the moment we stepped inside. The silence was too thick. The shadows stretched too long. Vincent's men-no, not his men anymore-shifted restlessly, eyes sliding away from his like guilty schoolboys caught cheating on an exam.

I hugged his leather jacket tighter around me, watching him with that terrifying, infuriating calm he wore like a second skin. Vincent Virenson could be bleeding out, and he'd still look like the devil in charge of the underworld. But even devils cracked, and I could see it in the hard line of his jaw.

And then Marco spoke.

"I'm sorry, Centy." His voice broke the silence like a cheap violin out of tune. "Caroline-she made an offer none of us could refuse."

Centy.

The nickname slipped from his lips like a curse and a mockery all at once. My stomach twisted at the sound of it.

Vincent didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He just tilted his head, glass of whiskey still in his hand, his eyes glowing like embers ready to set the whole damn city on fire.

"She made an offer?" His voice was soft. Too soft. That dangerous kind of soft that made your spine shiver. "And you-what? Jumped like a dog for scraps?"

Marco smiled. Actually smiled. That sheepish, traitor's smile, as if betrayal was nothing more than a joke between old friends.

That's when I realized-Marco wasn't sorry. Not one damn bit.

The glass shattered before I even saw Vincent's hand move. Amber liquid sprayed across the concrete wall, dripping like fire, but no one dared breathe. Except Marco. He just kept smiling like he thought he'd won.

And maybe he had.

Because in the corner of the warehouse, tied to a chair with ropes digging into his arms, was Daigo.

Daigo. The one man who'd never flinched, never backed down, never questioned Vincent. If Vincent was the fire, Daigo was the steel that kept it burning. And Caroline had him.

The realization hit like a punch. My heart stuttered in my chest.

And then she walked in.

Caroline.

God help me, she looked like a storm in heels-perfect hair, red lips, every step clicking against the concrete like a countdown to destruction. And beside her? A stranger who was no stranger at all, not once you saw the resemblance. Taller, older, darker. His smile was a mirror of hers-wolfish, smug, lethal.

"Dominic," she purred, like she was introducing her pet panther. "Meet Vincent's little darling. The one making him weak."

Her eyes landed on me. Sharp. Hungry. And suddenly I felt every inch the burden I swore I wasn't.

Vincent stiffened, his body a wall of fury between me and them, but Dominic's gaze slid past him like he wasn't even there. His eyes found mine-and lingered.

And then he smiled.

A slow, sheepish, devastating smile that made my blood boil and my stomach flip all at once.

"Well, well," Dominic drawled, voice smooth as silk dipped in venom. "The songbird herself. No wonder Centy's empire is crumbling. If I were him, I'd burn down a city for you too."

Vincent growled, low and lethal, but Dominic didn't even blink. He just tilted his head, studying me like I was already his prize.

"You don't know me," I snapped, my voice sharper than I felt.

"Oh, I know enough," Dominic said, his smirk widening. "I know you're the reason Daigo's in that chair. I know you're the reason Vincent's men are turning on him. And I know..." His eyes dipped, then rose again, deliberate. "...you're worth every second of this little game."

I swallowed hard, hating the way heat rose to my cheeks. "Stay away from me."

Marco chuckled from where he leaned against the wall. "Good luck with that, Violet. Dominic doesn't stay away from anything he wants."

The betrayal in his voice cut deeper than Dominic's flirting. Marco, the man who used to swear loyalty over late-night drinks, who once carried Daigo out of a firefight with his own hands-now he was smiling, mocking, while Daigo bled in a chair.

"Marco," I whispered, almost to myself. "How could you?"

He met my gaze, shrugging like it was nothing. "Survival, sweetheart. Caroline knows how to pick the winning side."

The world tilted.

Daigo groaned.

And Vincent finally moved.

He stepped forward, each stride a promise of violence, his eyes locked on Marco like the bullet already had his name carved into it.

The warehouse went silent.

And I?

I realized this was only the beginning of the havoc.

---

The night pressed heavy around me, as though the shadows themselves had grown teeth. I could barely catch my breath. Betrayal still tasted bitter on my tongue-Marco's smirk replaying in my head like a broken record.

"Marco... why?" I whispered into the silence, though there was no answer except the faint hum of the generator outside. He had laughed. He had looked Vincent in the eye and chosen Caroline. Again.

And now Daigo-sweet, stubborn, loyal Daigo-was gone.

I tried not to think of him tied to a chair somewhere, bruises blooming across his jaw while Caroline sharpened her claws. Tried not to think of Vincent's face, the way it had drained of color when Marco revealed his betrayal.

Vincent...

God, if only he knew how much I hated myself right now.

I hugged my arms around me, pacing the dimly lit safehouse, shoes clicking against the tiled floor. I wanted to scream. To break something. But instead, I pressed my teeth against my knuckles until I tasted blood.

That's when the door creaked.

I spun, heart in my throat, and there he was.

Dominic.

Caroline's elder brother. Trouble incarnate wrapped in an expensive suit and a smile that was far too amused for the chaos he'd helped unleash.

"Well, well," he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. His voice slid through the air like velvet dipped in poison. "The infamous Violet Virgilson. Even prettier up close than the stories say."

My jaw tightened. "Get out."

He chuckled low, ignoring my glare as his eyes dragged over me. Not lewd. Not yet. But heavy enough to make my skin prickle.

"Now, now, don't be like that. I came to deliver a message." His grin widened. "Your precious Vincent? He's bleeding allies faster than a sinking ship loses water. And Daigo-" he tilted his head, feigning sympathy "-he's in our care. Caroline's care. Though, between you and me..." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "...she doesn't have half the finesse I do when it comes to breaking men."

My stomach churned, but I refused to flinch. That's what he wanted.

"You touch Daigo and I swear-"

"Oh, relax," Dominic cut in smoothly, though his gaze flickered over my lips, lingering there too long. "I wouldn't hurt him. But you..." He let out a soft whistle, stepping closer until only a breath separated us. "...you're the kind of woman a man could go to war for. I almost pity Vincent."

The audacity of him-standing there, flirting, while Daigo was in chains and Marco played Judas all over again-made something snap inside me.

I shoved him back hard. "Keep your pity. And keep your distance."

He stumbled a step, then laughed. Actually laughed. "Spirited. I like that. No wonder Vincent clings to you. He knows if he lets go, I'll be right there to catch you."

My hand itched for a weapon, but there was nothing within reach. Just my fury. Just the tremor in my chest.

"Get. Out."

This time, Dominic obeyed, but not before flashing that wolfish smile again. "Careful, Violet. Broken men don't make good lovers. They make great enemies. And Vincent..." He tapped two fingers to his temple. "...he's already breaking."

Bye songbird

The door clicked shut behind him.

And I sank against the wall, fighting the urge to crumble. Because for once, Dominic wasn't wrong.

Vincent was breaking.

And I-I was part of the reason why.

---

Vincent Virenson

The glass shattered against the wall before I even realized I'd thrown it.

"DAMN IT!" My roar echoed in the hollow expanse of the safehouse office, bouncing back at me like a chorus of my own failures.

Whiskey streaked down the wallpaper, dripping onto the carpet. Another stain for the collection. Another mess I couldn't clean up.

Daigo. Loyal Daigo. The one man who'd stood by me when the world crumbled, when Caroline sharpened her knives, when Marco first betrayed me. Now he was gone. Snatched by the very vipers I'd spent my life trying to cut down.

And Marco-God.

That smirk. That sheepish smile as though betrayal was just a game. As though handing me over to Caroline and Dominic was nothing more than a casual pastime.

"Bastard," I growled, slamming my fist against the desk. Wood splintered. My knuckles split. The pain felt good. Real. Something I could control.

But control was slipping.

My men were scattered, half of them bought, the other half too scared to stand. Allies? Gone. The empire I'd built was a house of cards, and Caroline had just exhaled.

And then there was Violet.

I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing. God, the look in her eyes earlier-like she was the burden, like all this blood was somehow staining her hands instead of mine.

If only she knew.

If only she could see that she was the only damn thing keeping me from burning everything down and letting the flames take me too.

The door creaked.

I spun, half-expecting Marco to slink back in, ready with another dagger for my spine. Instead, it was Dominic. Smug, polished, and too calm for a man who should've been bleeding out on my floor by now.

"You've lost your touch, Vincent," he said with that sheepish smile of his, the one that always made me want to rearrange his jaw. "I walked right past your guards. Or what's left of them."

I clenched my fists. "Where's Daigo?"

He tilted his head, eyes glittering with mock sympathy. "Safe. For now. Caroline's... entertaining him." He smirked. "Though between us, she lacks creativity."

Rage boiled in my veins. "If you lay a hand-"

"Oh, relax." Dominic waved a hand like I was a child throwing a tantrum. Then his smile sharpened. "Your problem isn't me. It isn't even Caroline. It's Marco."

The name hit like a knife.

"Your lapdog wagged his tail for us again. Twice bitten, twice fooled, Vincent. How many times will you let the same snake strike before you crush its head?"

My nails dug into my palms, blood seeping from the cuts on my knuckles. He wasn't wrong. But hearing it from Dominic's mouth made me want to rip out his tongue.

"Careful, Dominic," I said through clenched teeth. "You're circling too close to fire."

"And you," he countered smoothly, "are circling the drain."

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Heavy. Suffocating. Then he leaned forward, voice dropping low.

"Tell me, Vincent... when you break-and you will-do you think Violet will still be here to pick up the pieces? Or will she realize she deserves better?" His grin widened. "Like me."

My vision went red.

Before he could blink, my hand shot out, grabbing his collar and slamming him against the wall. The plaster cracked. His smirk didn't falter.

"You so much as look at her again-" I snarled, breath hot against his face. "-and I'll put you in the ground beside your sister."

Dominic chuckled, unbothered. "Ah, there's the Vincent I remember. Ruthless. Unhinged. Tell me-do you threaten every man who notices how exquisite Violet is? Or just the ones who make you insecure?"

My grip tightened. His smirk dared me to snap his neck.

And for the first time in a long time, I almost did.

"Careful, Centy, break too hard and even Violet won't want your shards".